


(if you have) a bad day

by ZekeStrife



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Pacifist Route, Protective Sans, Sad Papyrus, fluffy skelebro nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZekeStrife/pseuds/ZekeStrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even Papyrus has a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(if you have) a bad day

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [HaroThar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HaroThar) for beta'ing!

Sans wakes up, and it's a good day.

It's one of those feelings, you know— where the moment you open your eyes, you know.

This is going to be a good day.

For a while, he doesn't even bother opening his eyes. He just lays there, warm and comfortable, breathing in and out, enjoying the distant sound of Pa—

Wait.

Sans opens his eyes.

Sits up and stares at where he _knows_ Papyrus should be cooking breakfast.

Did... Did he wake up early?

He frowns. Glances at the digital clock by his bedside.

No. It's around the time he usually wakes up, these days, and by now Papyrus should be in full swing, preparing breakfast for the both of them and humming along to whatever program he's turned on this morning.

But there's nothing, and suddenly Sans is pretty sure today is _not_ going to be a good day.

 

He checks the living room and kitchen first.

It's not the biggest apartment, so the two rooms are more or less squished together. Neither of them really minds, though, but right now it would definitely be better if the two rooms were huge, separated, and _yes_ , Sans knows he's stalling.

He should just check Papyrus' room. Get it over with.

He checks the bathroom.

Just to be sure.

With those three out of the way, there's really only Papyrus' room left.

Sans stands before the door, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

Papyrus has long since decorated his door much like the one in Snowdin— there's paper taped to the door, the same proclamation of ' _NO GIRLS ALLOWED! NO BOYS ALLOWED! PAPYRUS ALLOWED!'_ and in the corner of the last one, a tiny scribbled ' _frisk allowed!'_

He knocks.

A minute later, and there's still no answer.

Papyrus' room is dead quiet, and Sans rocks uneasily back and forth on his calcaneus.

Sans knocks, louder this time. Another minute passes by. Still no answer.

Welp. Guess he has no choice.

The door creaks open, loud in the silence— Sans peeks his head in, scanning the interior.

There's a lump on the bed.

Sans non-existing stomach drops to the bottom of his non-existing gut.

"h-hey... papyrus?"

No answer. The lump doesn't even move.

Tentatively, Sans steps inside. Lets the door remain open behind him.

"bro? you, uhm, okay?"

This time, the lump moves.

A pair of glowing, blue eyes stares at him from underneath the layers and layers of blankets.

"okay, dumb question— uhh, do you... need anything?"

Papyrus shifts. It's barely noticeable, and Sans only notices it because he's looking directly at him.

"NO."

The two glowing lights disappear.

Sans is pretty sure Papyrus just buried his face in his pillow.

"pap, c'mon. let me help."

No answer. Papyrus has obviously gone back to ignoring him.

Sans sighs. Steps closer, careful not to make too much noise as he pads across the room.

"bro, please? you always help me when i'm feeling down."

He reaches over, gently laying his hand on where he thinks Papyrus' shoulder is.

"bro, plea—"

There's a low, muffled grumble, and Papyrus shifts underneath his hand.

"SANS. JUST PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE."

Sans frowns. "bro, i can't—"

Another grumble. "SANS, WILL YOU JUST—"

"pap, c'mon! i wanna _help_ you—!"

A high whine interrupts him.

Craning his head back, he stares up towards the noise.

A Gaster Blaster hangs suspended in the air, nothing more than a few inches away from his face.

Bright blue light glows from behind its closed teeth.

"SANS. IF YOU DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE, _RIGHT NOW_ , I'M GOING TO BLAST YOUR FACE OFF."

Sans gently pats at Papyrus' blanket-covered form.

"okay bro. you just call me if you need anything, okay?"

There's a low, muffled grumble of agreement.

Sans turns around, and walks quietly out the door, closing it behind him.

Yeah. Not a good day.

 

"i don't know what to do."

Sans is lying sprawled across the table, face muffled in his sweater-sleeves. Across from him, Frisk is giving him a sympathetic stare.

So is Toriel, for that matter.

"Is this something we should worry about?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She's tapping her claws against the mug of cocoa she's been cradling ever since Sans plopped down.

Sans sighs. "nah. he gets like that sometimes. i just—" he raises one shoulder in a very tired shrug. "dunno what to do about it."

There's a few seconds of quiet. Frisk is probably signing something, but right now, Sans can't find it in himself to raise his head.

"Hm, perhaps you're right, my child."

Well. Guess he has to now.

Forcing himself to raise his head, Sans looks sluggishly across the table.

Frisk gives him a small smile, repeating themselves <maybe he just needs to be alone for a while?>

Sans sighs. Slumps further in his seat. "yeah, probably. i just." he closes his mouth, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"he's always there for me, you know? and now, when he's feeling crummy, i can't help. and it just. bothers me."

Frisk thins their lip, tapping thoughtfully at their chin. Toriel hums, similarly deep in thought.

Sans sighs and closes his eyes.

It takes a while, before anybody says or signs something. Of course it's Frisk who makes the first sound, tapping twice on the table.

Sans peels his eyes back open, and pays attention.

Frisk is smiling softly, still, and there's a soft shine to their eyes. <maybe he just doesn't need to talk? couldn't you just lay with him?>

...somehow, he had never thought of that before.

Groaning, Sans slides his palms over his sockets, sliding back in the booth. "i'm so _stupiiiiid_ —"

Toriel and Frisk both chuckles.

"Don't let it bother you," Toriel says, voice warm. "It's one of those things one just forgets."

Sans groans, louder, and when they both giggle at the sound, he grins. "you're just saying that, tori."

She grins back, a glint in her eye. "Well, you _are_ a bit of a bonehead, aren't you?"

They both laugh, even though it's an old, over-used pun.

Frisk rolls their eyes, smiling anyway, and suddenly, Sans doesn't feel as down as he did a few minutes ago.

He knows what to do now, after all.

 

The house is still quiet.

Sans closes the door behind him, peeling off the slippers Papyrus insists he only wears outside, and pads inside.

No one in the living room, or kitchen, so Papyrus must still be in bed.

He inhales deeply, squaring his shoulders. Exhales slowly.

He can do this.

The door is still closed, just as he left it— he opens it just as quietly as before, wincing a bit at the loud creak.

The Papyrus-lump hasn't moved.

He crosses the room in two, quick strides, not bothering to speak up. As soon as he's close enough, two eyes peer up at him.

"... SANS?"

He winces.

Papyrus' voice is hoarse, sad. Nowhere near his usual, happy self, or the annoyed grumble from earlier.

Sans sighs, and lowers his shoulders.

"yeah. scoot over, will you?"

For a few second, Papyrus simply peers up at him— then, without a noise, he backs up a little, making room.

It's not much space, but Sans doesn't really need much— he sits down, tugging at the blankets till Papyrus relaxes his grip a bit, slipping under and bumping their knees together.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles, shifting so he can look Papyrus in the eye. "we don't have to talk."

Papyrus looks back at him. It's so odd, seeing such a quiet look on his brothers face— it tugs harshly at Sans' soul.

"I'm sorry too," Papyrus murmurs, very quietly. "I just—"

He stops. Shrugs, and burrows further under the blankets. Doesn't look at Sans, anymore.

Sans sighs, fondly this time. "it's okay bro. i get it, alright?"

He slides further down too, reaching out to curl his fingers around Papyrus'.

"i'm here. it's okay."

Their foreheads bumps together. There's tears in Papyrus' eyes, and he's not quite smiling, but—

For the rest of the day, neither of them says anything at all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! it you liked it, maybe leave a kudos, or a comment? it would be super appreciated. ♥


End file.
